


A Ring Called Promise

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [11]
Category: Alice Nine
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Food Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Hiroto's birthday, Shou finally puts a ring on it - and they take another, long-overdue step in their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ring Called Promise

**Author's Note:**

> An installment of the Stargazer series written for Hiroto's birthday in 2011. The ring described in this story is an actual ring that appeared on the web site of Justin Davis, a designer who's favored for J-rock bling. The translation of Armor Ring at the end came from a site called Akasutki.

The quiet of a late, late night was broken by the pinging of elevator doors in a certain building. Said doors parted, revealing two men, their arms weighed down with boxes that still had bits of wrapping paper stuck to them, a couple of mylar balloons with HAPPY BIRTHDAY on them bobbing around the ceiling.

"Oh, God, what an evening." Hiroto was so happy that he nearly twirled his way off the elevator. It had been a perfect birthday. Just perfect. He'd wanted to spend it at a live, and PSC had thoughtfully arranged one for them at Ebisu Liquid Room in Shibuya. That had been followed by a huge party which must have been attended by every person in the industry Hiroto had ever met, laughing and having a good time to an extent that they hadn't since the great tragedy in March.

Oh, yes, perfect. He couldn't ask for anything more.

Shou, meanwhile, walked off the lift more slowly, looking very much like a guy trying to hold nerves at bay. Which was exactly what was going on. The first signs of tension had started creeping in when the party began, and by the time they left, he had a fluttering in his stomach like he hadn't felt since the first time he'd stepped on a stage bigger than a tiny regional live house.

Shou knew very well what it was. It was the nerves of a bridegroom.

Tonight was the night of all nights, the one he'd planned for weeks. His final victory over commitmentphobia. As he watched the birthday boy almost dance his way down the hall, he fingered the small box in his pocket, went over what he was going to say in his head. This was going to be the most important moment of his life, matched only by the fateful instant when he and the guitarist from his former band were introduced to a certain drummer who was looking to form a new Visual Kei group.

When they reached the apartment, Hiroto put his pile of presents on the floor for a moment to fish out his keys. As he opened the door, a little ball of fur rushed out toward him, yipping loudly. "Sssh, Mogu, you'll wake everyone else in the building up." And that left him with an armload of squirming, barking Pomeranian to carry into the house, which meant Shou was going to have to deal with a double load of presents.

He was actually glad for the momentary distraction. Trying to figure out how to get a pyramid of clothes and jewelry and electronics boxes into the apartment, without collapsing with a crash that would awaken everyone for about eight blocks, would keep him from thinking too much about what was next.

He picked up the teetering stack and headed into the apartment, slowly, moving this way and that, leaning to the right when the stack leaned to the left. If he ever got tired of rock and roll, maybe he'd have a future with Cirque du Soleil.

Hiroto was on the couch, still playing with his dog, skrtiching his belly and murmuring to him. Shou knew better than to interrupt. One of the rules of their relationship was that quality time with pets was sacred, capital everything. Besides, interrupting now would mean losing his current momentum, and that would just mean boxes strewn from one end of the apartment to the other, and that just wouldn't be good for anyone.

A few more stumbles to the left, then the right, and the pile was plunked down on the coffee table. Shou stepped back from it slowly, not daring to breathe, out of fear the whole thing would fall like a house of cards.

He sat down next to his lover and stepdog, and put a gentle hand on Hiroto's shoulder. "When you're ready," he said, in a soft voice, "go into the bathroom. There's a yukata there. Put it on, and then come sit on the edge of the bed." Of course, there was an implied "take everything off before you put the yukata on" there.

Hiroto leaned his head against Shou's. "You have plans for me, don't you?"

"Maybe," Shou said, teasingly, reaching up and brushing the back of his fingers over the close-cropped blond hair. He did miss being able to brush Hiroto's bangs back sometimes.

"I might have plans, too," Hiroto said. He cuddled Mogu again - the little dog was starting to fall asleep in his master's arms - and gently carried him over to his doggie bed, laying him down tenderly. "Sweet dreams, my little one," he told the animal, leaning over and stroking his fur, watching until he was fully sleeping.

Only then did he walk over to the couch, leaning over and kissing Shou. "Be right back," he said, picking up the duffel bag he brought to lives and leaving the room.

Shou got up and headed for the bathroom, taking a deep breath. It was here. The moment of truth. The first thing he did was quickly strip off his own clothes, putting the little box in the nighttable drawer, and pull on his own yukata. And then, he reached for the box of matches he'd left in the drawer, and set about to lighting the candles he'd scattered throughout the room - next to the bed, on the dresser, even on top of the amp in the corner. When Hiroto came out, he'd find the room filled with a warm glow and a sensual, spicy scent.

And, oh, yeah, what the hell was that rapid pounding noise, not unlike one of Nao's drum solos? Whoops, that was Shou's heart.

Hiroto entered the bedroom, looking around. Shou was standing in the corner, wearing a yukata. The lights were out, there were candles everywhere. It was an atmosphere of romance, all right. "Oh, wow," he said.

"Surprise," Shou said. "Happy Birthday. I hope you like it."

"Like it?" He walked into the room, thinking that the soft candlelight transformed everything - the little bedroom had become a chamber fit for a king. "It's gorgeous."

"There's more to come," Shou said. "Sit on the bed."

Hiroto perched on the edge, like Shou had asked him to. Okay, Shou thought, this is it. No turning back now. And there went his heart again, threatening to pound its way out of his chest, and that would put a damper on the evening, wouldn't it, body parts flying through the air like bizarre birds? And yeah, time to stop thinking like that, or when he tried to talk, all that would come out would be incoherent babble.

He dropped down to his knees in front of his lover, a subject kneeling before a prince, and took both hands in his. He looked up at him, bathed in soft candlelight, the sweet face contrasting with the punky hairstyle, the small and wiry body giving no hint to the power of his gifts as a musician. This was his beloved, and his best friend.

And suddenly, the words were pouring from him - not the ones he'd thought about carefully earlier, and rehearsed over and over in his head, like a director's instructions for a PV. These were coming from his heart, and from his soul.

"Hiroto . . . when you came into my life, I knew you were something special. You weren't like anybody I'd ever known. So pure and strong . . . like no corruption in the world could ever reach you, no sadness could ever eat you alive. You were something I wanted to have in my life . . . a missing piece of me, really. And yet, it took me so long to see it. Way, way too long. I hurt you, and . . ."

He stopped, swallowing hard. He remembered what Hiroto had said to him when they were in the park, headed for the sakura grove that only they knew of. No "should haves." No regrets. No looking to the past, just moving forward.

"But we're together now, and I'm happy. So happy. When I wake up every morning, and you're lying beside me, and I can kiss you . . . it's like any bitter feeling I ever had, any hurt and pain, have been purged from me. Like my soul is clean now. When I was in pain, just you being there soothed me and made me feel strong again. Your purity has become . . . my other half. Part of me."

A deep breath, and he clasped the hands tighter. "I want to be at your side, Hiroto. Always. I want us to walk together through life. And I promise I will always be there for you. I'll love you, protect you, catch you when you fall. Forever."

Hiroto listened, stunned. Those sounded like . . . words of marriage. The kind of thing someone would say to his beloved at the altar. That was no casual declaration of love. It was an offer of his heart, his soul, his life.

And then, Shou was saying, "Close your eyes." Hiroto obeyed, and the hands left his. There was the sound of the drawer opening, and a hinged box snapping open, and then his left hand was taken again. There was something cool sliding over the third finger . . . the wedding band one. The hand was gently lifted, so it would be in front of his face. "Now, open," Shou said.

Hiroto did, and the sight that met his eyes was a silver band, rather plain, medium-width . . . but the front of it was a beautiful, stylized Maltese cross, each arm tipped with a point and surrounded by intricate, black-edged, curled ornaments. It was like a hip version of a coat of arms, regal and yet, edgy. Justin Davis, Hiroto thought. A ring like this could only come from his and Shou's favorite jewelry designer,

This is my wedding ring, he thought, stunned. I just heard my marriage vows, and this is my wedding ring . . .  
It was far from what a convenional couple would have, of course. They couldn't have a traditional band - it would be far too obvious. There had been enough fangirl speculation when he and Shou had worn matching star necklaces - yes, by Justin Davis. Anything resembling your typical bridal ring, and the fans would get entirely the right idea.

And besides, it was right for them in a way that something plain and simple and traditional couldn't be.

"Shou . . ." The words were trying to come, but they were trapped somewhere in the void, unreachable. Hiroto could only stare at the ring, and then at his lover, and then at the ring. It would have to be worn on his other hand when they were in public, of course. But the two of them would know what it meant, what was behind it. And, damn, were those tears pricking the corner of his eyes? No wonder he couldn't talk, he was literally choked with emotion.

Shou reached up, brushing the tears away, tenderly. "Sssh," he said. "You don't have to say anything, love. I know."

Hiroto covered Shou's hand with his own, squeezing it. He reached down, and found his lover's other hand, and tugged upward on it lightly, an invitation for Shou to join him on the bed. Shou got the hint, hopping up to the mattress, wrapping his arms around Hiroto and pulling their bodies together.

It was inevitable that the kiss that happened then would be fierce, wild, passionate, with Hiroto pulling Shou in, their lips parting almost right away. It was no mere bridal kiss, it was an affirmation of all the emotions that had been building between them from the moment they first met.

Shou ran one hand over his lover's short, blond hair, pushing his tongue into his mouth again, tasting rum and birthday cake and the unique flavor that was Hiroto. He wanted to lose himself in his lover in so many ways, become truly one with him . . .

Hiroto leaned back out of the kiss. "I brought back a piece of the cake, you know," he said. He leaned over to the nighttable, picking up a paper plate covered with foil - which he'd smuggled into his duffel bag before leaving the party. "I wanted us to share it . . . privately."

Shou pulled the foil away. It was one of those end pieces that ends up being mostly icing, the kind that children try to get so they can have a maximum sugar rush. A little bit of cake clung to one end, enough so you could technically call it "cake."

He gave his lover one of his tease-the-fangirls-and-the-camera naughty smiles. As much as he loved it when Hiroto was sweet, and pure, and innocent-in-spirit, he especially loved it those times when his lover was most definitely not-quite-innocent.

"You'll have to take the yukata off, then," he said, teasingly. "I don't want you to mess it up."

"You need to take yours off, too," Hiroto retorted.

Shou hopped off the bed just long enough to undo the belt, sliding the garment off and draping it over a chair. "Done."

Hiroto did the same, draping his over Shou's. "Done, too," he said, as they both hopped back on the bed.  
"Now, about that cake . . ."

Shou picked it up in his left hand, dabbled his fingers in it and brushed the icing across Hiroto's lips. "We'll have to figure out how we're going to eat it."

He leaned in for another kiss, flicking the tip of his tongue over the soft, full mouth, tasting the sweetness of the sugar and the sweetness of him, before they came together again, their tongues caressing. Hiroto sighed deeply as he felt the very welcome plundering of his mouth, tipping his head back to give Shou better access . . .

And then, Shou dipped four fingers into the icing and smeared them over Hiroto's chest. Hiroto gasped into the kiss - though it certainly wasn't unexpected, after all, he'd brought the cake just for that purpose - and dipped his own fingers, rubbing the frosting into the vocalist's skin, from his neck all the way down to his navel.

"You're going to have to lick up everything you put on me, you know," Shou said, teasingly, before rubbing a frosting-covered finger over Hiroto's nipple - and then quickly tickling his belly. Hiroto laughed, which just made Shou tickle him all the more.

"Shou!" Hiroto cried through hysterics as he tumbled to the bed. "Stop it!"

"Maybe," Shou said - and then tickled him again, making Hiroto laugh more. "Of course, I could do this, instead. . ."

He dipped his fingers in the frosting again, and began to . . . He was writing on his stomach with the icing? Hiroto tried to follow the strokes of the kanji. . . .

A-I-S-H-I-T-E-R-U

And he found himself wondering how many people's birthdays included their lovers writing "I love you" on their bodies with icing.

"I mean every bit of that frosting, you know," Shou said, teasingly . . .before leaning over and starting to lick off the lettering. In perfect stroke order, yet. Hiroto leaned back, eyes closed, feeling that tongue moving on him, caressing sensitive skin. A tiny, precise pinpoint of hot and wet, which grew wider as he started to lick up Hiroto's stomach, to his chest, moving his tongue to the left and then the right, trying to get every bit of the sweet cream.

He worked his way up to the nipple he'd coated, and circled it, slowly, looking up at Hiroto with a teasing glance. He raised his head and blew across the little bud, not taking his eyes from his lover's.

His teasing skills were well-used on the fangirls, and better-used on Hiroto.

"I want . . ." Hiroto said, eyes half-lidded, not wanting to stop looking at Shou, who was just so maddeningly beautiful and sexy and, my God, all his. Completely and totally Hiroto's.

"What is it?" Shou said. "If you want it, you have to tell me."

"I want you to lick me, and suck me . . ."

"Mmm . . ." Shou lowered his head, lapping at the nipple, licking the cream up and feeling Hiroto's body arch toward him. He closed his lips around it, and sucked, and heard the moan of pleasure that he loved so much. His tongue licked at the bud again, feeling its hardness, the rough texture of the puckered skin around it.

And then, he found himself rolled on his back, and Hiroto was on top of him, his hot, wet tongue on Shou's neck, stroking the spot on his throat that was an erogenous zone for the older man. "Aaah," he cried, leaning his head back, and Hiroto licked the spot again, a long, slow drag of his tongue.

He moved down, tracing the path his fingers had made earlier with the frosting, slowly stroking along his chest to his stomach, where he nipped a little at the flat, firm skin, making Shou shiver a little. Hiroto nibbled again, moving down a little more, but not going too far.

He knew how to tease, too. He'd learned from a master.

Shou lay under him, eyes closed, writhing a little. He couldn't let Hiroto go too far, much as he wanted to. He had plans for tonight, very definite plans.

After the ring, and the vows of love, it was time for final consummation.

He raised his head. "Hiroto," he said, huskily. "Come up here."

Looking puzzled, the guitarist raised his head, but moved up the bed, wrapping his arms around his lover and pressing their lips together. When they parted, Shou reached up and tenderly brushed the back of his hand across his lover's face.

"I want something special to happen between us tonight," he said in a soft voice. "I want to take that one step further, and do what we haven't before. I want . . ." He kissed his lips again, soft and gentle and tender.  
"I want to make you mine," he said.

Hiroto was confused at first. Make me his? Wasn't that what he did already, with the ring, and . . .

It suddenly occurred to him what he meant. All the way. Finally. Excitement rushed through him, along with a bit of nervousness. The last time he'd experienced full anal penetration, it was with his first boyfriend. They were both teenagers, they hadn't known what they were doing. The result was awkward and rather painful, and not just the first time they tried it.

But this was different. This was with a man who loved him, who he trusted with all his heart and soul.

"All right," he said, before bringing his lips to Shou's. They kissed with tenderness and heat, tongues caressing each other softly, feeling the closeness of each other's bodies. Shou ran a hand along Hiroto's chest, pausing as he felt his lover's heart beating directly under his fingertips.

I'm literally holding his heart in my hand, he thought. Of course, he'd been doing that for a long time now.

He broke away from Hiroto just long enough to reach over to the nighttable. He'd already put what he needed there. A tube of lubricant, a condom - the latter just an extra precaution, though he doubted there were anything wrong with him. After all, the only other men he'd been with in the last year or so were Tora and Saga, and he hadn't touched either of them since Budokan, since the night he confessed his love to Hiroto.

"I need to get you ready first," he said. "I'll take it slow - I know it's been a long time for you." He opened the tube and began to slick a finger. "Just like the night I gave you the prostate massage, only I'm going to do it with more fingers. Relax as much as you can . . ."

Hiroto took a deep breath and willed his body to relax. He remembered the prostate massage, how the finger inside him had felt strange at first - well, almost painful. But then had come pleasure so delicious he could hardly believe it were true.

There was a pressure at his entrance, and then Shou's lips on his as the finger started to push inside. Hiroto willed himself to relax, and to concentrate on the kiss, and not think about how funny it felt.

Fortunately, the "weird" sensation passed quickly this time, and it was replaced by a warm sensation that made Hiroto purr a little in his throat as Shou began to thrust the finger in and out, in and out . . . Hiroto found himself moving his hips along with the thrusting, trying to push it deeper, take in more.

And then, the finger slid out of him, and he felt its absence with disappointment. "It's going to be two fingers now," Shou said, wiping the finger on a tissue and relubing it, along with a second. "Just breathe easy . . ."

There was that pressure again, and then the two fingers inside him. This time, the weird feeling was back, along with a sensation of stretching that Hiroto wasn't sure he liked. And pain. Yes, definite pain.

Shou's lips were on his again, and once more, he focused on the kiss, and the rhythm of his own breath. He had to get through this, he would get through this, because there had to be pleasure on the other side, right? Why would guys do this all the time if there wasn't?

Sure enough, the more he focused, the more than pain faded, and then a warm, mellow pleasure was there instead. Oh, yes, did that feel good. Delicious, even. Enough so that Hiroto moaned in his throat, and arched toward Shou again.

"Good?" Shou said, sliding the fingers out again. "Just one more . . ."

One more what? Hiroto got his answer very quickly when there was pressure at his entrance again, and then more pressure, and dear God, he was putting three fingers inside him? His ex had only used two. But maybe that's why he'd had the pain upon penetration . . .

He made a sound of surprise, and Shou lightly kissed his cheeks and nose. "Sssh," he said. "Just relax again. Trust me, my love, I need to do this so you'll feel good. I've been on both sides of this. I know."

So Hiroto trusted Shou, and relaxed, and focused on their lips coming together yet again. But this hurt. And felt like being stretched out to the limit. And then the fingers were moving, and okay, it was hurting a little less, and less still, and . . . oh, WOW. This time, when the pleasure hit, it made Hiroto give a full-throated, long, low, husky moan, such an erotic sound that Shou very nearly took him right away.

No, no, had to keep control, had to get himself ready . . .

"I'm going to lube myself now," Shou said, gently sliding the fingers out. He tore the packet open, rolled the condom on and poured a very generous amount of lube into his hand.

One thing he'd learned from experience: There was no such thing as too much lube. When you thought you had enough, keep slicking some more. And he wanted this to be perfect for Hiroto, absolutely perfect.  
When he was ready, he positioned himself above his lover, bringing himself to his entrance. He grasped Hiroto's left hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing right below the ring.

"I love you very, very much," he said. "So much, it almost hurts."

"I love you, too." Hiroto wrapped his other arm around Shou and drew him closer. Time was standing still, their entire relationship was flashing before his eyes. The live with his first band where he was approached by the members of some new visual kei group that was forming, and oh, this is our vocalist, Shou . . . the developing friendship, the going out shopping and eating together, laughing and talking . . . the first sexual encounter, and Hiroto being worried afterward that it would affect their friendship . . . the painful reminders he was sleeping with Tora and Saga as well as him, the wondering whether his love would remain unrequited . . .

And then, finally, backstage at Budokan. "I love you. I've always loved you, Hiroto. . . ."

It was all behind them, the pain and the confusion. As he'd told Shou once before, the past didn't matter. They were together now.

He looked up at his lover, into his eyes. "Do it, Shou. Make me yours."

Shou leaned over and brought his lips to Hiroto's, and began to push in, very slowly and very carefully . . . but despite that, and despite the preparation, Hiroto felt pain. He drew in a large, sharp breath through his nose.  
There was a moment of panic. Oh, God, this was going to be like with his ex, it wasn't going to work out, he was just going to be one of those men who couldn't do this . . .

No. He had to relax. He had to trust Shou. This would get better. This would get better.

And Hiroto closed his eyes, and once again, focused on the pressure of Shou's lips and tongue, how good they felt . . . the sensation of their bodies close together . . . The pain was fading, little by little, even as he was being filled.

Shou paused, lifting his head. "Are you all right?" he said.

Hiroto opened his eyes and looked up at the man he loved. So beautiful, so full of concern and tenderness and love.

"Yes," he said. "I . . . I just need to get used to it, okay?"

Shou leaned over and kissed his lips. "Okay. Just tell me when you're ready to start."

They just lay quietly for a long moment, and then, Shou became aware of what was going on here. He was joined with Hiroto. Intimate. Their bodies were truly one. The little guitarist was completely his. This wasn't fooling around anymore.

And there was no fear. There was only joy.

Finally, Hiroto took a deep breath, closed his eyes and said, "All right."

Shou began a slow, careful thrust. Hiroto felt the movement inside him, and it was odd, but not painful. All right, that was better. And then, he was moving a little faster, and going a little deeper, and the odd feeling was disappearing. It was being replaced by warmth, in fact. And a little tingle of pleasure. Yes, he was liking this feeling, the movement inside him, the fullness . . .

He opened his eyes, and looked up at his lover, at Shou with his eyes closed, a blissful expression on his face. He must be feeling nothing but pleasure. And, in fact, Shou was lost in bliss, all right, thinking that Hiroto was so tight, and so hot, embracing his most intimate flesh with his whole body.

But he had to control himself. He couldn't thrust hard, not until he knew Hiroto was . . .

And then, there was a long, low, delicious moan from below him. The first wave of genuine pleasure had hit Hiroto. Shou had touched a spot inside him that made every part of him tingle, from his toes to the top of his head.

Shou smiled, and kissed Hiroto's lips. "Does that feel good?" he purred. "It'll get better, you know."

Hiroto kissed back, and then Shou was moving a bit harder and faster, and there was that delicious sensation running through his body again. He let out another moan, and murmured against Shou's lips, "Oh, yes, more . . ."

"Like this?" Shou thrust harder and faster yet . . . oh, yes, this was the pace he wanted to set, plunging into Hiroto's body, that tight heat squeezing him and releasing him and squeezing him again. "Do you like that, love?"

"Ohh, yes!" Hiroto found himself clutching at Shou with both arms, and his hips were starting to pump. He wanted more of this. Oh, more. He was moaning full-throttle now, his skin breaking out in a sheen of sweat, his eyes closed and his lips moist and parted, breath coming in pants and moans.

"Oh, you're so beautiful." Shou reached down and wrapped his fingers around Hiroto's erection, starting to stroke him in time to the thrusting, which brought about another delicious moan. "So gorgeous right now. I've never seen anything quite like you . . ."

Shou's husky purr was just another layer of erotic stimulation, more pleasure, more, more . . . Hiroto raised his legs, and lifted his hips off the bed, trying to take Shou deeper still, to have his lover bury himself in him. The hand moved on his cock, and more delicious tingles ran through him, and Hiroto wanted this to go on, and on, even though he thought he was going to explode.

The two men moved together, thrusting against one another, moaning and panting and murmuring, their bodies bathed in sweat, their eyes tightly closed as they lost themselves in sensation, in one another.  
And then, Shou thrust hard into Hiroto's body, and he hit THE spot. Hiroto arched off the bed, nearly screaming, as pleasure exploded through him, just like the night Shou had given him the prostate massage, but more, more, MORE intense. "Again!" he cried. "Right there! Please!"

Oh, my God, the sound of Hiroto's voice, loud and husky with pleasure, was hot, spiced honey on Shou's ears. He wanted, needed to hear more of that. He angled his hips so he could hit the spot again and thrust hard, and thrust again, opening his eyes so he coud look down and see the bliss on his partner's gorgeous face.

Each contact brought about a fresh load of shudders through Hiroto, another series of fireworks going off in his mind. He arched off the bed, his voice now just a hoarse cry of need, of pleasure, of passion.

Then came another thrust against his prostate, harder than the others, and Hiroto's control finally broke. He screamed Shou's name as long, hot waves of passion rushed through him in shudders so intense he thought he really was going to explode, but he'd ride it out to the end.

The height of his orgasm made Hiroto clutch hard around Shou, and the sensation threw Shou over the edge as well, throwing his head back and letting out a loud cry as pleasure shot through his body, an orgasm more sweet and intense than any he had ever known.

Finally, the lovers collapsed in a heap, panting and moaning and touching and kissing. "I love you so much," Hiroto murmured.

"I love you, too," Shou replied. "More than you'll ever know . . ."

It was a long moment before they finally snuggled together, sighing. Shou knew he had to dispose of the condom and get them both cleaned up before they could sleep, but that could wait.

"Happy Birthday, my love," he murmured, kissing Hiroto's temple.

Hiroto was lying in a position where he could see his left hand, which was on Shou's chest. The ring glowed faintly in the candlelight.

A ring. A promise. And now, a consummation. They were truly one.

"It's the best birthday of my life," he yawned, still not taking his eyes off the ring.

"I'll give you plenty more like that." Shou kissed him again. "I'll give you memorable birthdays for the rest of your life."

Hiroto yawned, snuggling against his lover. The rest of their lives. That sounded nice.

He was just going to think about the here and now, though. And sleep. He needed . . . sleep.

His eyes drifted shut, the ring still in his sight of vision until he was claimed by slumber.

* * *

Heading off to the next stop on a tour was a ritual the band was familiar with by now. They got picked up by someone from PSC and driven to the office, where they'd rendezvous with the bus, a huge luxury coach filled with comfy chairs, a couple of sofas, a flat-screen TV . . . and plugs. Definitely outlets everywhere. Western bands, whose buses were littered with booze bottles and drug paraphernalia, would hardly recognize this as a rock star vehicle - because, instead, it was littered with laptops and PSPs and DSs and smartphones and iPods and iPads - most of which needed recharging at some point during the journey.

There was no sign on the outside marking it as a band tour bus - better to not have it be a fangirl magnet. But if a casual observer were to see the interior, they'd be tempted to hang a sign on the side saying, "THIS BUS BELONGS TO THE BIGGEST DORKS IN THE WORLD."

The other three were already waiting outside when Shou and Hiroto arrived for their next take-off. Nao was to one side, talking to their manager, while Tora and Saga were waiting near the bus door. "So how did the private celebration go?" Saga said, casually. Tora didn't say anything, but he couldn't surpress a smirk at his lover's comment.

"Saga!" Hiroto turned red, waving his hands in front of his face. "We just . . . um, well . . ."

And then, the sun caught the ring, and Saga saw a flash of silver. On the third finger of Hiroto's left hand.

He suddenly raced over to his bandmate and grabbed his wrist. "A ring!" he said. "That wasn't there before!"

Hiroto turned bright red. "Well, Shou kind of .. . . "

"TORA!" Saga suddenly yanked Hiroto's hand to propel him forward, and Hiroto found himself running to keep up with his own extremity. If he didn't, he ran the risk of it being yanked right off his body and hurled across the parking lot, and not only would that make a hell of a mess, they'd have a hard time explaining to PSC why one of their guitarists could suddenly only play with one hand. "Tora, look, we have a ring!"

"Saga, I kind of need that hand to play with . . ." Hiroto said, weakly, as Saga continued to drag him like a child dragging a favorite teddy bear. Good thing he had no stuffing inside him, or it would be all over the ground by now.

"Well, look at that," Tora said as Hiroto stumbled up to him. "Guess your birthday was even happier than we thought."

"Um . . ." Hiroto could only wiggle his arm. Okay, bones, intact. Muscles, intact. He couldn't vouch for it not having been stretched several inches, though.

"Look, there's Nao. We have to tell him. NAO!" And Saga jerked on Hiroto's hand again, and Hiroto stumbled forward again, thinking that pretty soon, his hand would be in one prefecture and his feet in another. Not exactly the best way to be well-traveled.

Shou just watched the whole thing from a distance, baffled. Saga was acting like a college girl whose sorority sister had just gotten engaged. Of course, he was responsible for him and Hiroto being together, so maybe he had a personal stake in it.

And then, suddenly, he felt arms wrap around him, and a kiss on his cheek. He turned his head, baffled all over again. "Tora?"

"Well done," his old friend said, softly. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." He patted Tora's arm, still wrapped around him. "I guess this means I'm an old married man, now."

"Was I your best man?" Tora asked, as he glanced over to where his lover was dragging Hiroto over to Nao, crowing happily about the new development. There hadn't been this much fuss over a ring at the Council of Elrond.

"Definitely," Shou said. Tora was a logical choice, after all. He had known him longer than anyone else, had been in two bands with him, had been his first male lover, was Saga's co-conspirator in getting himself and Hiroto together. And then, after a pause - "You have a month and a half to get one of those rings, you know," referring to Saga's birthday.

There was a pause. "Maybe. I'll think about it." Of course, this was delivered with a smirk, so Shou knew it really meant "You bet your ass I'm getting one."

Shou watched as Hiroto managed to free himself from Saga's clutches and walked back toward him, rubbing the left arm. He'd have to give that a proper massage tonight, when they were alone in their hotel room. It was what a good spouse did, after all.

Going on a tour together, playing in front of their fans, doing what they loved best. It was a hell of a way to start their shared forever.

**ARMOR RING**

_Won't you walk with me on the unending journey? I ask you  
Even if you're just struck by the rain, I'll hold out my hand and protect you, you'll become a flower_

_Till we met, I didn't believe in living for anyone's sake, the interrupted circuit is linked  
I awake, and kiss you on the cheek, like I no longer hate anyone anymore_

_On the afternoon of that day, I was holding on to nothing  
If I close my eyes, I think I'm able to say to you - _ I'll promise to you

_On your sleek ring finger, I put on a ring called 'Promise', there's colour reflected in these eyes  
I thought there was nothing, your existence repainted this world_

_Even the unimportant words are treasures to me, I've caught all the elements to make it  
I awake, and kiss you on the cheek, like I no longer hate anyone anymore_

_I'm giving this ring to you, I won't lose sight of it  
When you're drowning in some form of darkness, I'll find you_

_Dreams give dreams, today I'm living as well, because this withered voice is calling for you  
The colour that dyes the sky is a burning emerald, time is stopped, even the heartbeat_

__So precious time _What am I living for?_ So precious time _I didn't know  
_ So precious time _If it's now, certainly_ So precious time _I know._

_I'm giving this ring to you, I won't lose sight of it  
When you're drowning in some form of darkness, I'll find you_

_On your sleek ring finger, I put on a ring called 'Promise', there's colour reflected in these eyes  
I thought there was nothing, your existence repainted this world_

__So precious time _What am I living for?_ So precious time _You taught me  
_ So precious time _I want to protect_ So precious time _you_


End file.
